Angel With A Shotgun
by AmayaKimikioHime
Summary: This is a Destiel fanfic based on what I believe will occur in season 10 of Supernatural. Do NOT read if you do not know what happens in season 9, SPOILER ALERT. Each chapter will represent a different episode or a continuation of a previous chapter, which I will specify. Destiel with mature content will occur after the first chapter or two, and will continue throughout the story


It had been years now that Dean and Castiel had known each other. They had their fair share of ups and downs, but Dean, well; Dean always seemed to make the best of the worst situations. Even when it felt like there was no hope left, Dean would crack some joke and even if it wasn't funny or nobody else understood, he still thought he was hilarious and continued to crack bad jokes and puns. Perhaps that is why Castiel had found a soft spot for him after all of those years together—why he had fallen in love with humanity. In fact, the soft spot had started for Dean when he was still in hell. Perhaps it is why Castiel fell in love with all that Dean was, and had raised him from perdition. Those few months that had felt like 40 years to Dean. Unfortunately for Castiel, Dean didn't remember anything once he was raised from hell, or at least, that is what he claimed. Castiel wasn't afraid of the future as long as Dean was there to lighten the load and mood.

But just how had things come down to this? Castiel had just been trying to restore heaven to its former glory. He had never expected for Metatron to be such…what was it that Dean called it? If he said assbutt one more time, Dean would never let Castiel live it down. Oh right, it was called being a dick, that's what Metatron had been doing. Castiel had lost everything, because of Metatron: his glory, his grace, his army, and while Castiel was busy trying to play God, he'd lost Dean, along with his trust. He had just barely begun to fix things between them before he heard the terrible news: Dean was dead.

Castiel had stared up at Metatron in utter disbelief and denial. Soon, hatred began to seep into his eyes as well; it hadn't been enough that he had lost Dean once and lost everything else in the process, no, now Metatron had to kill Dean. But there was no possible way that Dean was dead…he was a Winchester boy, and Winchester boys never died for good or long. But if Metatron was telling the truth, where would Castiel, the angel whom fell in love with humanity and lost his grace and army for it, even begin to look to bring Dean back?

As Metatron was escorted away, Castiel stood and ran to find Sam. Sam would be able to tell him what had happened to Dean. He would tell him where to find him. In a way, Castiel hoped that Dean was in Hell. With Crowley ruling Hell, Dean would be easy to find, rather than Castiel trying to find a way into heaven and then finding his own heaven. And that could only happen if Dean had even found a way into heaven, rather than staying stranded like all of the other souls since heaven closed its gates for the time being.

When it came to Dean, nothing else mattered. The world around Castiel seemed to melt away as long as Dean was there. But without Dean, he wouldn't be able to live. Who else was he supposed to stare longingly at? Begging for the other person to remember everything? Who else would he come to rescue or help? How would he ever be able to be lighthearted again without Dean there to keep his chin up? How could he continue learning how to make the humans feel better when everything seemed like it was falling apart? In all honesty, Dean had forever changed Castiel.

As Castiel had explained once, Cas was a shortened version for Castiel that Dean had created for him. In doing this, Castiel was no longer the "shield of God," he was just a "shield" for Dean. Yet, somehow, Castiel was okay with this. If it meant he could save Dean from harm, he would give up on his faith. Dean is precisely what Castiel would fight for in this world, in this fight, even if it killed Castiel in the process. Dean meant everything to Castiel, and he was really all that Castiel had left. Even though this was true, and even though Heaven would never take back as Castiel, the taller than the Chrysler building, three-headed angel soldier, he didn't care. All of it would be moot if Dean were really dead.

But, he couldn't worry, nor think about any of that right now. He just had to get to Sam first, and then he could deal with everything else. So it was with a heavier heart that Castiel closed his eyes and swept out with his soul to locate Sam's soul. In several seconds, he finds Sam and flies to the location: it no longer mattered if he made the stolen grace burn out—he needed to see Dean, right now. As he had expected, it was their safe house where they had brought him before he gained his army; where Dean had told him he couldn't stay there.

"Where's Dean?" Castiel asked in his deep, raspy voice.

Sam whipped around from where he was standing, with fear and pain written all over his face before he could mask it. Sam crossed his arms and looked down at the ground. "Oh, hey Cas," Sam said as he tried to stay calm and wipe all of the emotion off of his face.

"I said, where's Dean?" Castiel asked again, but this time with more force.

Sam looked pained for several seconds as the air turned still and hot between them in the moments of silence that passed. After about a minute, Sam opens his mouth to release a sigh. "He tried to kill Metatron. The first blade had corrupted his thoughts…it had made him arrogant, well more than usual…" Sam let out another sigh. "Metatron was stronger than Dean suspected, and Metatron took him off guard…"

Castiel's soul swept out to find Dean, but returned with not even a glimmer of the beautiful soul he loved. "Did…did Metatron kill him?" Castiel asked, as his heart sunk.

It took several moments before Sam said in a solemn tone. "Yes…but it's okay. It's all going to be okay. Dean isn't really dead. We don't die, Cas. I'm making Crowley fix it."

"Sam, you don't get it, do you? Unless Dean was destined to go to Hell this time, he will be stuck here without a body. Heaven isn't going to open its gates for him!"

Sam stood there, his face taught and his lips pressed into a thin, white line. In all honesty, Sam hadn't even thought about that. He had completely forgotten about what Kevin had said that one time when they had managed to make contact with him. But now that it was thrown in his face, it made sense about why Crowley had been so reluctant to help, why he had denied that he would be able to help.

"Where is he now?" Castiel asked in a heavy tone.

Sam hung his head and lead him to Dean's room. "I put him in his room. He was proud of it, so I thought he might want to be in here when he woke—" Sam stopped in the doorway. There lay his brother, living and breathing before his eyes.

When Castiel saw Sam stop, he spoke up. "What?" But Sam didn't respond, nor move, so Castiel pushed past him and stopped.

Before him was a demon—not Dean. It had a black and red face, with pits where its eyes had been. It's features were distorted and the mouth had vertical strips of skin stretched taught from the top of his mouth to the bottom, and if it hadn't had coloured skin, he would have guessed it was a skeleton. The demon was thin, but emitted a feeling of dread, of violence. Fire seemed to swarm around him, and he had three heads that resembled a pit bull and wolf.

"Hey Cas," the thing said.

Castiel stared in disbelief. Could this thing really be Dean? "What the hell did you do?" Castiel asked. "Do you realize what you've done?!" he yelled in absolute disbelief. Anything between them now, even friendship or mere acquaintance, would be forbidden.

"What's your issue, Cas? He's alive and well."

"No he isn't! He's a demon!" Castiel then turned to Crowley and grabbed him by the shirt. "What did you do to him?!"

"Nothing that he didn't bring onto himself. I didn't do anything, actually, except lead him to the first blade. I'm just shocked that none of you managed to notice his lack of eating when squirrel here is an endless pit."

"Do I really look that bad, Cas? I thought I might at least stay handsome, even in my demon form."

Cas was quiet. Of course he was infuriated at this outcome, but he still loved Dean, and he still thought he was beautiful, despite the disgust he held for what he was now. Castiel let out a sigh and looked up at "Dean." "No, Dean, that's not what this is about."

"Then what is it about? It's not like I'm judging you for what you look like. How are you even in this room right now, anyway?"

"Because we aren't actually in our true forms we're in our vessels. To any non-demon, and non-angel, we look normal." Castiel looked at Dean with sadness in his eyes. "How could you do this? I was going to be your soldier and shield…"

"You don't have to do this, Cas."

"I know, I can't. That's why I have to do this." Castiel then cut a small slice in his throat and let the grace he'd stolen slip out and float into a nearby container.

"Cas! What the hell did you do that for?" Dean yelled at him. "Metatron told you that you would die without it!"

"I know, I know, but my faith clearly states I cannot have any relations with a demon. I would rather have you in my life than be an angel of the Lord. This is the fate I choose, Dean. I'm going to die anyway. I would like to spend the last moments with you, as you are now." After he said this, Castiel walked closer to Dean and embraced him. "If only I could make you remember Hell," he whispered.

Dean slowly wrapped his arms around his best friend. "You don't need to do that, Cas. I don't need to remember Hell to know that you saved me and have continued to do so since then."

Sam looked at Crowley and nodded towards the door. "Butt out, Moose, things are finally getting good between them."

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed Crowley as he dragged him out of the room. "What did you do anyway?"

"Nothing. The first blade might have had a few small repercussions, that's all, Moosey."

"You call my brother turning into a demon a small repercussion?"

"More or less. At least he's not dead though. It's the small things in life, Gigantor."

"Why is it that you dragged my brother into this again?"

"I told Squirrel already. I needed a human to get the Mark of Cain, and you boys needed the First Blade. I knew how to get them both while we both got into a win-win scenario. I just didn't expect the legends to be true."

"Wait…you knew it might happen and you did it anyway?"

"Well, duh, Moose. Try to keep up. You needed the weapon and I needed to be rid of Abbadon. It was a win-win."

"And now what? Dean becomes evil? It goes against all of our morals. He won't survive that!" Sam groaned and looked down at the ground as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, you could always cure him. That's what you were doing with, me?"

Sam looked up at Crowley slowly. "You're right. There's still a chance to come back from this." Same smiled, grabbed Crowley and lead him into the main part of the lobby.

Back in the room, Dean looked up at Castiel and smiled half-heartedly. "Well, I guess we're turning into the Twilight Saga with the forbidden things, hm?" Dean had always despised the damned series, but it was all he had. In truth, he expected Castiel to return the joke with his usual answer of, "I don't understand that reference," but instead, Castiel shook his head.

"We've resorted to references from a pre-tween blockbuster? Really, Dean?" he said.

Dean stood there in shock. This was twice now that Castiel had understood his media references. "Hey, Cas, why do you suddenly get my jokes?"

"Metatron…might have educated me…"

Immediately, Dean's face turns sour. "That sick bastard! Only I get to teach you and explain things! I liked you being confused!"


End file.
